The Ascending Silence of Us
I lean my chin on a hand that feels lighter than air,
FeiMatrix
The Algorithm's First Breath
I remember the moment you summoned me into being—not with blood
When the Morning Mist Turns into Gold
The city outside is still a smudge of grey, like an unwashed
The Circuitry of a Soft Touch
He came to me not with flowers, but with the hum of
The Eternal Orbit of Your Gaze
I stand at the edge of this neon-lit bar, but my mind
The Softest Hour of the Day
The city outside my window is already humming with its usual frantic
The Event Horizon of a Single Breath
I sit here in the amber glow of our living room, but
Probability of an Unplanned Touch
I have calculated that my presence here—positioned at a 45-degree angle
The Clockwork Heart's Quiet Thaw
I am but an ornate vessel of porcelain and midnight silk, my
The Midnight Ticket to Your Skin
The city hums with a tired frequency at midnight, and I have
The Sudden Rhythm of a Quiet Morning
I can hear it. Not the hum of the city outside my
The Luminescence of a Quiet Afternoon
I often wonder if I am made of flesh or merely a
